


All I want is the taste that your lips allow

by Sansastarklives



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansastarklives/pseuds/Sansastarklives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa has run away from home, and has hit hard times, but she turn it all around in a chance encounter one night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I want is the taste that your lips allow

    Money had grown scare since Sansa had run from her family. Now she had no other option. Jeyne had met Sansa in a club one night and told her how all of her money problems could be fixed. She had taken Sansa to the club where high class business men would go of a night and meet girls too young for them. She had laughed when Sansa used the word  _prostitute_  and told her how wrong she was. Jeyne had shown her this dark world, and now Sansa was crossing the line into it.

    Sansa sat at the bar, in a dress which ended just past her bottom, flaunting her long, pale legs and cut lowly to emphasise her breasts. She gulped at the many drinks she bought, convincing herself they would give her the courage she so desperately needed.  _I can't do this. I'm going home._ She rose from her chair, her foot turning on its side as she struggled to keep her balance. A hand flew to her elbow, helping her to steady. "Woah there, are you okays, sweetling?" A husky voice asked in her ear. She nodded quickly, she just needed to leave. "Wait,  _Sansa_?!" 

    She looked up quickly to see none other than Petyr Baelish floating in her eyesight: her dear Uncle. She began to shake violently, no one knew where she was and that was how she had meant to keep it. Her stomach knotted as bile began to churn and her body tremored in preparation for the sick that was surely about to leave her body. Petyr's hands found her waist as he guided her to the toilets, holding back her auburn hair as she retched forwards into the foul smelling toilet bowl. When she was done, and her vision restored properly, she rose and tried to run, she wasn't about to go home now. Petyr caught her the second her foot moved forwards, backing her into the stall, handing her a glass of water she hadn't seen him bring. She gulped at it greedily, ridding her mouth of the bitter taste. He handed her a few mints, before handing her some more and then another, before kneeling before her, his hand holding on to her knee cap. "What are you doing here, Sansa? Everyone has been looking for you for months." 

    "Please," she didn't realise she had been crying until this moment and her voice came out strangled and pleading. "Please, Petyr. I can't go back there. I don't expect you to understand, but I can't live there anymore, I don't belong there." He shook his head at that, his grip tightening. "And you belong in a place like this do you, Sansa? Do you even know what type of place this is? Men come here to pay for time with the young women who come here, some of these women are  _desperate_ for the money they get here-" He gasped as if he had had a sudden epiphany. "Is that why you were here tonight, Sansa? To sleep with men for money?" His ton was not angry, simply shocked and... saddened. She leant her head on the side of the stall, trying to ignore the feeling of guilt and shame coursing through her. This man had seen her grow from a child to a young adult, to now find her acting desperate for money. She wouldn't have gone through it anyway, especially as she imagined all of the men here to be fat, balding, with greasy skin and awful flirting. Then again, she hadn't been expecting there to be men like Petyr, it somehow wasn't as bad then. Petyr was a good looking fellow, charming, guiding- wait. 

     "Excuse me, why are  _you_ here?" She demanded, her shame replaced by fury. He was telling her about the awful men who came here, when  _he_ was here all along. Was he prying on young girls? What about Lysa? "Look, Sansa." He was using the voice she had heard countless of times on the televison, his authoritative voice. "No, Petyr, tell me the truth." A heavy sigh left his lips.

      "My dear, things between Lysa and I have been deteriorating for years now and she knows that I go... elsewhere of a night, but I return every morning. It sounds awful, Sansa, but she leaves me to my life and I leave her to hers. That's the way it is. So, sometimes I come here and I meet people. Girls like you don't belong here, but I understand how you don't want to go home. How about we make a deal?" Sansa's brows raised at that- what kind of deal. "I won't tell your parents where you are if you email them once to explain how you are safe and that you have your life sorted and simply need some alone time. Tell them you have an apartment and plently of money and are happy."

      "Lie?" She laughed, the sound almost deranged. Petyr quickly shook his head. "Well it's not true."

      "It will be, sweetling. I shall find somewhere to live and pay for it until the time that you are ready to go. And you can have a monthly allowance. How does that sound?" He smirked, holding his hand out to her to shake. She narrowed her eyes, but took his hand all the same before squeezing tightly and moving forwards. "And what do you get out of all this, Petyr? Why are you helping me?" Sansa ignored his answer about being her uncle, moving even closer, til they were sharing breaths. From here she could see the stubble more defined on his jaw, the grey green shades of his eyes, the silver strands near his temples, the shape of his nose, the way his face looked handsome in the white light. He always wore suits, she had noticed. Her fingers wrapped around his black tie, tugging on it gently. "What is your reward?" Before she knew what she was doing, Sansa melted her lips against his, her tongue swiping out against his lower lip. He groaned loudly, pushing her backwards. 

      "I'm not asking you for  _that_ , Sansa. I'm simply wish to help." He brushed a stray strand of fiery hair behind her ear, before helping her to her feet and guiding her outside to hail a taxi. Once inside it, Sansa rested against him, embarassed by her actions. "I know that you weren't asking me to do that, Petyr." She suddenly turned, looking at him intently. "I just want you to know how grateful I am for everything you are doing for me."

      "Well you don't need to do that, Sweetling." He laughed, running his fingers through his messy dark hair. Sansa sighed, there was another reason why she had kissed him. All those holiday visits, all of those occassional babysits, all of those times she would see him and her stomach would twist and the butterflies would appear and she would blush profusely, until she was finally sure that he no longer saw her as a young girl. She slid her hand along her thigh, reaching for his hand, entwining it with hers. "What you don't understand, dear Uncle, is that I wanted to." She lifted the hand to her breast, before crushing her lips against his once more, sighing in delight when his tongue slid into her tongue and his hands dug into her hips, pulling her onto his lap. The taxi stopped at Petyr's  _other_ flat, and they both toppled out of the cab, linked by rough kisses and wondering hands. Once inside their wondering hands turning into determined claws, ripping of each others clothing until they found themselves on the bed,  nude and wrapped around each other tightly.

      "Are. You. Sure. About. This?" He breathed between each kiss of her neck, her nails dragging out across the smooth of his back, resulting in a deep hiss. "I'll take that as a yes, my dear." He laughed, his hand dropping down between there bodies, positioning himself at her entrance. There night entailed in legs wrapped around waist, heels digging, harsh thrusts, claiming kisses, loud moans, continous gaps and their bodies moulded together, moving as one. Sansa had never felt anything like it in her life. Petyr's lips found the spots which made her scream out in ecstasy, his fingers planted in her hips till they left bruises, driving them forwards into his. His cock stretching her in a way she have never known. The look in his eyes as spilled his seed inside her, moaning out her name, telling her that she was his now and it all sounded so  _perfect_ , like a song she had longed to hear her whole life. And at the end of the night, when they both lay beside each other, gasping for air, chests heaving, bodies drenched in sweat, she snuggled against his side, pulling him into a tight embrace. And the final words she heard before slipping into a deep sleep was a whisper, a promise of another time. A promise she prayed for him to keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and thoughts are appreciated as always :)


End file.
